


[not] strictly official

by Anyawen



Series: beekeeper q [1]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: BAMF!Q, BAMF!Tanner, Don't copy to another site, Gen, Skyfall Fix-It, sending in the cavalry, skyfall au ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2019-10-02
Packaged: 2020-11-10 15:14:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20853851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anyawen/pseuds/Anyawen
Summary: Q has created a trail of breadcrumbs that will take Silva and his men directly to Skyfall, where Bond is attempting to defend M on his own and without resources. Q is not happy with those odds. He does something about it.





	[not] strictly official

**Author's Note:**

> Cupcakes with sprinkles on top for atothebean for the loan of eyeballs and brain for beta reading.

Q heaved a heavy sigh as he watched Mallory leave. Tanner turned at the sound, brow raised in question.

"I wish I could do more," Q answered Tanner's silent query. "It's my fault Bond is out there, on his own, against Silva. And you know Silva certainly isn't alone."

"It isn't your fault," Tanner protested.

"I was arrogant and careless," Q replied. "Won't happen again, assuming I am in a position to make such promises after today."

"Why wouldn't you be?" Tanner asked.

"M might have something to say about me continuing as Quartermaster after my actions led directly to a threat on her life," Q said, running a hand through his hair. "I've done what I can to ameliorate the damage and give Bond what assistance I can, but ... I wish I could do something more. _Anything_ more."

"Even with Mallory looking the other way, or even actively running interference, we can't assign agents to assist," Tanner said with regret. "Besides which, anyone we sent might leave a trail Silva could find."

"Anyone _else_, yes," Q breathed, catching Tanner's eye.

Tanner was already shaking his head, clearly having seen what Q was thinking.

"We can't."

"We can. We have to, or, I do. I know where he's going, and his odds. I have to try."

"He's an hour and a half ahead of you, and Silva may already be following the trail you set and won't be far behind," Tanner pointed out. "You'll never make it in time to be useful—"

"Damnit, Tanner—"

"—unless you fly."

Q slumped back in his chair with a groan.

"Commercial flights won't have convenient times, and landing at Glasgow or Edinburgh would still mean driving for hours to get there too late -"

"Then don't take a commercial flight."

"I don't happen to have a pilot in my back pocket ready to fly on a moment's notice on a completely unauthorized mission, and, in any case, that would definitely leave a trail," Q said, setting his elbows on the desk and leaning his face into his hands, fingertips sliding under his glasses to scrub at his eyes.

"You do, actually."

"I do what?" Q asked, looking up.

"Have a pilot in your back pocket. Or, at least, standing right in front of you," Tanner replied.

"You were RAF," Q breathed, sitting forward.

"I was. These days I'm a civilian pilot.”

“I don't suppose you've got a plane?”

“In a manner of speaking,” Tanner answered. “I'm a co-owner, I guess. Group of us went in together to buy it, usually trade off taking it out on weekends.”

Q grinned.

“It's Tuesday.”

“It is,” Tanner agreed. “And the plane is in the hangar.”

“Where?”

“Up at North Weald airfield, near Epping. Seats four."

"Plenty of room for us to bring a small arsenal, then," Q said as he began building a flight plan.

Q's fingers were flying across his keyboard when the clicking sound of high heels entering the lab made him look up.

"Mallory sent me. He said you might need a field agent's perspective for something?" Eve Moneypenny said, cocking an eyebrow in question.

"I guess we're official, then," Tanner remarked.

“As official as we can be, at any rate.”

"What's official? What are you two up to?" Eve demanded.

"We _three_," Q answered, "are going to back up Bond."

"Oh,” she said. “Brilliant."

"Right, then. Tanner, you call the airfield to have them get the plane ready for an 18:30 departure. They'll find the flight plan filed under 'Vokzal'. Eve and I will get started on the gear."

Q tilted his head for Eve to follow as Tanner pulled out his phone.

"What do we know about the terrain?" Eve asked. "He's headed off grid, yes? Away from civilians?"

"He's headed to Skyfall," Q replied.

He heard Eve's heel skid slightly as her step faltered.

"He is?" she asked, clearly shocked. "I don't think he's been back there... Ever, really."

"That is what I would conclude as well, based on MI6 gossip," Q agreed. "Though, for all we know, that's where he disappears to every time he reports in a week after he's expected. Either way, he's going there now. And so are we."

"Right. Open country. Out on the moors, isn't it?"

"Woods to the west, about a thousand metres from the house. A small chapel about two hundred metres to the northeast. Large pond, or a small lake, mostly to the north. Open terrain otherwise.”

“You're thinking sniper.”

“Among other things, yes. You up for it?” Q asked, knowing Eve's history.

“I am,” she replied.

“Good,” Q said, stopping to in a code for a door that was not weapons storage. “First things first,” he said in response to Eve’s raised eyebrow. “Shoes.”

“Shoes before guns?” Eve asked.

“If we can't get to Skyfall and get ourselves dug in because we're not dressed for the terrain or the weather, we might as well stay here, and we don't need guns for that.”

“Point,” Eve agreed, following him into what appeared to be a huge wardrobe. “I've got boots in my locker. Most of a standard field kit as well. No cold weather gear, though.”

“Grab what you need, and take a set of these as well,” Q said, tossing her a small black bundle of cloth.

He took in Eve's bemused look as she held up the long sleeved pullover shirt and matching leggings.

“Long underwear? I hadn't realized MI6 was in the lingerie business.” 

“Then you’ve not been paying attention,” Q replied. “You can do amazing things with lace these days.”

“No lace on these, but then lace wouldn’t do much to keep us warm,” Eve commented.

“I suppose they will work as thermals, which will be helpful out on the moors, but they're actually a prototype body armor. Layered lightweight synthetic spider silk to divert bladed attacks, and a new ultra-fine weave kevlar to deflect bullets. Tests results are promising – ”

“But they haven't been approved for use in the field?” Eve asked.

“Not as such, no.”

“Right,” Eve replied.

“I always wanted to be a lab rat,” Tanner said, entering the room.

“Now's your chance,” Q said, tossing a second set of the thermals to him. “Get yourselves changed, we've got an arsenal to pack.”

*

Fifty-seven minutes after they left the MI6 tunnels they pulled up at the hangar at the North Weald airfield. Q closed his laptop and slid it into the messenger bag at his feet. He'd spent the drive monitoring the traffic along their path, and nudging the signals to green as necessary. Moneypenny had taken every advantage of the opportunities Q had made for her, especially the 'do not hold' order he'd put on the plates of the car she'd 'borrowed'.

By the time he climbed out of the car Tanner was already in the pilot's seat beginning the flight check. Moneypenny was unloading in the duffle bags they'd filled with weapons, explosives, communications equipment, and stealth gear from the car. He saw her look back and forth between him and the plane as she pulled the last bag out and closed the boot.

“You going to be all right to fly?” she asked, handing him one of the bags and picking up three others.

He didn't like flying, but there was no other way to get to Skyfall in time to assist Bond. He couldn’t take anything that might leave him unable to think clearly, but it was Tanner in the pilot's seat, not some nameless, faceless person Q had never met and didn't trust. He drew a deep breath and exhaled slowly.

“Yes,” he said, stepping toward the plane. “Let's go.”

*

Three and a half hours later, having white-knuckled his way through the flight, Q instructed Moneypenny to direct their second ‘borrowed’ vehicle — a Land Rover — off the back country road and onto a smaller lane leading into the trees a few kilometres away from Skyfall.

“Right,” he said. “Now for the tricky part. Bond destroyed his earwig and disposed of their phones before he left London so that Silva had to follow the trail I created rather than tracking him directly. This means we've no way to let him know we're here, and if he sees any sign of us before we're able to identify ourselves, he'll assume we're hostiles.”

“Good thing we're spies, then,” Eve said wryly, pulling off into the trees and parking the car.

“Indeed,” Q said. “Assuming that Bond is coming directly here in order to have as much time as possible to organize his defenses, we have maybe two hours before he arrives. We need every bit of it to lay out our perimeter, set a few traps, and get ourselves into position.”

“And how are we going to identify ourselves when Bond arrives?” Tanner asked. “He'd assume any coded messages are compromised, given Silva's hack.”

Q winced.

“Did Bond ever tell you about the first time we met? At the National Gallery?” he asked, pulling out night vision gear and handing it to his companions.

“I don't think he said anything much about it,” Tanner replied.

“He said something about hipsters,” Eve said. “And never having thought much of the Romantic painters.”

Q barked a laugh as he and Tanner pulled bags of gear out of the back. He checked their position and directions while Eve and Tanner pulled on their packs and night vision goggles. Slinging his bag across his shoulders and pulling on his own goggles, he led them west, deeper into the trees.

“Yes, well. We had a conversation in which I may have compared him to a ship ready to be hauled off for scrap, and then told him I could do more damage behind a computer than he could in the field.”

“I’m sure that went over well,” Tanner said while Eve snickered.

“It’s true though — the second part, not the first part — and he knows it. But he also knows that his role in the field is necessary, and knows that I know it as well. In the end, we seemed to get on. Given that he hasn't shared any of that part of the conversation with either of you, he's unlikely to have shared it or any other bits with anyone else. Repeating key phrases should work to confirm my identity so I can send in comms equipment that will allow us to coordinate with him.”

“Other bits?” Tanner echoed.

“Key phrases?” Eve asked.

“Musings about time, old ships, and pyjamas. Things that he will surely recognize.”

“_Pyjamas_?” Tanner repeated, clearly amused.

“Shut up,” Q replied.

They continued through the trees in silence for several minutes more, then the phone Q had strapped to his arm buzzed.

“Right. I'll set up the comms tent here,” he said. “We're roughly one kilometre east of the lodge, about a hundred metres inside the tree line. You know what to do.”

Q watched as his companions disappeared into the green-tinted darkness, Eve to set a perimeter along the north side of the lodge out to the church where she'd take up position on the roof, and Tanner working around the south to the entry gate. By the time Bond and M arrived he'd have cameras, motion detectors, and thermal sensors ringing the property, and remote-detonated explosives planted in strategic locations.

He put his laptop bag and pack down next to a tree and made quick work of erecting the tent and establishing a perimeter of twenty metres, then setting up the computer to monitor satellite feeds of the area, track Eve's and Tanner's progress in establishing the perimeter, and connect to the specialized laser pointer he mounted two dozen metres north of the comms centre tent in a tree visible from the windows on the east side of the lodge. Once Bond arrived, he'd use it to send messages in Morse code.

“Brave new world, indeed,” Q murmured and pulled a prototype drone out of a case, securing a pair of earwigs to it, and settling down to wait.

*

In the end, Q stood next to Bond gazing at the burning ruin of the Skyfall Lodge. Behind them a team of MI6 medics was seeing to M's broken collar bone and the gunshot wound that had not penetrated the kevlar leggings, but had still shattered Tanner's left knee. Moneypenny was on the phone updating Mallory while a clean up crew worked around them, collecting the bodies of the dead and laying them out in the old church.

Silva's body was left to lay where it had fallen, on the floor in front of the altar, a knife buried in his back.

“Tanner tells me this was all your idea,” Bond said, breaking the silence.

“I knew where you were going, and had some idea what you’d be facing. I couldn’t let that just happen without trying to help,” Q said with a shrug. “It was my fault he escaped.”

“Maybe,” Bond replied easily.

Q looked at him, surprised. He’d expected either vehement agreement, or perhaps an indifferent denial. Bond only gave him a half smile.

“He’d planned it for a long time, and I played right into his hands bringing him back to London, directly into HQ. It was my fault he was there in the first place instead of rotting on that island with a bullet in his brain. There’s plenty of blame to go around.”

“Maybe,” Q echoed.

“Moneypenny once told me you don’t like to fly,” Bond said as part of the lodge’s roof collapsed, sending sparks dancing through the air.

“Oh? Well. She’s not wrong. I hate it.”

“You got on a plane today.”

“Yesterday, actually,” Q corrected, smiling a bit at Bond’s amused huff. “Tanner is a good pilot, though I do rather hope I’ll manage to find ground transport for the return to London.”

“I’ll give you a lift.”

“I hardly think your Aston is in any condition to make the trip,” Q said, glancing at the wrecked car sadly.

“There are enough cars about,” Bond replied, glancing around. “They probably won’t miss one.”

“They probably will.”

“Then I’ll find another one. I’ll get you home safely, Q. No planes.”

“I … Thank you, Bond.”

“Thank you, Q.”

“For crashing a helicopter into your house?”

“It was a mouldering ruin anyway,” Bond replied. “Good job with the drone, by the way, though I thought that ruining expensive prototypes and causing explosions was my job. I suppose I should be flattered that you’ve been paying close enough attention to my methods to replicate them on such a grand scale.”

Q snorted.

“You're a horrible influence, Bond,” he said, catching Bond’s amused glance.

“Hmm,” Bond agreed. “Damaged equipment happens to the best of us, even without komodo dragons. I'm sure that prototype drone cost a fortune. However will your budget recover?”

“I'm not sure I'll be in any position to worry about the budget,” Q responded. “Technically I stole government property and went on an unauthorized mission, on which some of that stolen property was destroyed. I rather expect to be hanged, drawn, and quartered when we get back.”

“Well,” Bond drawled, “_technically_ I just kidnapped the head of MI6. And there are rather a lot of bodies laying around.”

“Yes, yes,” came a disgruntled voice from behind them. “You'll both have to face a court martial that will result in probation for the Quartermaster and an enforced leave for 007, during which time he will submit to additional re-training and testing, and a full psych evaluation. I do expect that by the time you're called upon to deploy again, you'll be able to scrape by passing scores in the field tests, Bond.”

“Ma'am,” Bond replied as he and Q turned to face M, her arm strapped across her torso to stabilize her collarbone, steely expression tinged with pain and weariness.

“You'll both also find commendations in your files, buried deeply and appearing completely unconnected to recent events. Tanner and Moneypenny as well. I'll see it goes through before I retire.”

“Retire?” Q said, shocked.

“I like it less than you do,” M replied, “but it's retire or be pushed out. The axe was already falling, and Silva didn’t help any. Taking retirement will allow me to negotiate a few things, and give Mallory enough time to find his footing before the next catastrophe.”

“Mallory?”

“He has the right background, good connections, and is already far better with dealing with bloody bureaucrats than I’ve ever been. He’ll figure out how to handle you lot quickly enough. And you will play nice, Bond.”

“Of course, ma’am. I’ll give Mallory the same cooperation and respect I give you.”

Q’s eyes widened and he darted a quick look at M. After a minute of stern silence a hint of a smile crossed her face.

“I’d expect nothing less,” she said, and turned away to return to where the medics were loading Tanner into an ambulance.

Q and Bond watched as M accepted a hand up into the ambulance with Tanner and the doors closed behind her. They stood in silence for a minute before Q could no longer hold back a snicker.

“Cooperation and respect?” he asked.

“Same as I give you as well, Quartermaster,” Bond said with a grin.

“You give me nothing but aggravation,” Q replied, “and a ride home.”

“Hmm, yes. About that. How did you say you got here from Oban?”

“Moneypenny ‘borrowed’ a Land Rover. It’s parked about three kilometres west of here, just off a back road, inside the treeline. If there were keys, she has them,” Q said, glancing over to where Eve was sliding into the back of a dark sedan.

“We don’t need keys, if you’re up for a hike?”

“Ready when you are.”


End file.
